


Just Want to Get it Right

by GreatCanadianJackalope (Airla)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Dom Peter, Insecure Stiles, M/M, Safeword Use, Sub Stiles, and then good communication, poor communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:15:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29855901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airla/pseuds/GreatCanadianJackalope
Summary: Stiles and Peter are in an exclusive BDSM relationship. Stiles can't get into the right headspace and feels like he can't do anything right. Peter makes sure he knows how untrue that is.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 17
Kudos: 163





	Just Want to Get it Right

**Author's Note:**

> Please see end notes for potential triggers.

It’d been one of those days. Anything that could have possibly gone wrong, went wrong. He’d slept through his alarm, he’d been late for a quiz in his history 304 class, and he’d spilled the dumb salad he’d spent way too much money on. All Stiles wanted was to go back to his shitty apartment, crawl into bed, and sleep. 

That wasn’t in the cards, though. He had plans with Peter tonight and he couldn’t get out of them. Stiles had already cancelled on him once this week. If he did it again, without a legitimate excuse, he would be in for a paddling. Besides, it wasn’t like spending time with Peter was a hardship. The man was hot as sin and does all the filthy things to Stiles that he could ever ask for.

He slipped into Peter’s apartment with the key that Peter had given him a few weeks ago. Stiles had refused to examine that gesture too closely. He was liable to see things in it that weren’t there. Peter was a practical guy. He couldn’t always be there to let Stiles in. Plus, now Stiles could be waiting for him when he got home. The first time he’d greeted Peter, kneeling at the door, Stiles had been surprised at just how much it turned Peter on. 

He definitely hadn’t had time to shower yet because of his day from hell, so he immediately went to Peter’s shower. Like everything else Peter owned, his shower was luxurious and probably cost way too much money. He showered and cleaned himself out thoroughly. He never knew what Peter had planned, but one of their rules was that Stiles always be prepared for a scene. He didn’t go so far as to stretch himself. Unless Peter told him otherwise, he generally liked to be the one to open Stiles up. It was usually done in a torturous and spectacular fashion. 

Stiles slipped out of the shower, dried off, and padded over to Peter’s walk-in closet. He opened one of the drawers that housed Stiles’ things and tried to decide what to wear. He stared at the multi-colored sea of lingerie and grimaced. This was usually something Stiles enjoyed, the anticipation of the night to come while he decided which pretty outfit he’d wear for Peter. But even this decision felt like too much for him right now. He knew the drawer beneath it had some harnesses and leather gear, but they tended to save that for when they went to the club. 

He spent several minutes agonizing over the choice and decided fuck it, he’d just be naked. He opened the velvet lined box that held his collar. At least there was always this constant. Since Peter had gifted it to him, they hadn’t scened once where Stiles hadn't worn it. It was truly a thing of beauty. The leather was black, with a precise red stitching that Stiles knew had been hand done. The D ring sat just on the hollow of his throat.

He fastened the collar on himself and felt marginally better. He took several deep breaths, trying to force himself to relax. Tonight would be good for him he told himself. Peter always left him gooey and boneless and swimming in happy hormones.

He checked the clock sitting on Peter’s bedside table and saw that he only had five minutes before Peter would be home. He grabbed his kneeling pad and got set up by the front door. He knelt and bowed his head, waiting for Peter’s arrival. This wasn’t the only position Stiles used for waiting, but he wasn’t in the mood for anything elaborate. 

Holding positions in general wasn’t always easy for him. His ADHD made it hard for him to sit still and not fidget. Peter had said many times that it didn’t have to be a part of their play, but Stiles had insisted. When he got it right, the positions helped him get in a headspace where thoughts didn’t fly at him rapidly and uncontrollably. They had been working at it for a while now, and Stiles was usually able to slip into the right headspace right away. Today was not one of those days.

He had to actively stop himself from fidgeting or shifting while he waited. He was growing increasingly frustrated with himself. He was debating whether or not he should just give up when he heard the scrape of Peter’s key in the door.

Stiles immediately checked his posture. He heard the door open and Peter come through it. He wouldn’t look up until Peter gave him permission. He listened as Peter shrugged out of his coat and hung it up. He heard the jingle of keys where he knew Peter had deposited them in their bowl. Stiles knew that he had to have everything just so or it drove him crazy. When they weren’t playing, Stiles took great glee in subtly messing up the apartment.

Peter was taking forever to acknowledge him, and it made Stiles want to stomp his foot like a toddler. They did this sometimes, Peter taking things glacier slow to build anticipation for what’s to come. On a normal night the process would make Stiles tingle all over in excitement. Tonight, though, it was making him twitchy and impatient. 

Finally, Peter made a considering sound and said, “My, my someone’s eager tonight, hmm?” 

Stiles felt a flush creeping up the back of his neck, turning his ears pink. He knew Peter was referring to his choice in outfit, or rather, lack of choice. 

A finger hooked itself in the D-ring of his collar, encouraging him to lift his head. Stiles raised his gaze and took in Peter standing above him. Ugh, Peter was so unfairly hot. He still had his suit on from work, hadn’t even undone his tie. Didn’t have a single hair out of place. Stiles never looked that put together at the end of his day. He was always a hot mess by dinner time.

“Hi.” Stiles said, his voice sounding meek to his own ears. 

Peter raised an eyebrow. Most people weren’t as well versed in the language of Hale eyebrows as Stiles was. That was definitely a displeased look. And shit, shit. This was a scene. Stiles had his collar on. How the hell had that been his greeting?

“Good evening, Sir,” he corrected himself, “welcome home.” 

Peter ran a caressing hand through Stiles’ hair. Was that a forgiveness caress? Or was that a oh boy you’re in for it tonight, caress? Ugh Stiles hated that he couldn’t tell.

Peter didn’t stay long. He made his way over to his small bar stand and poured himself a glass of whiskey out of a crystal decanter. Stiles knew that a bottle of that whiskey could probably pay for two months of his rent at least. He would never understand spending that much on something that wasn’t necessary. But who was he to say? It’s not like Peter didn’t have the money.

When they first started playing together exclusively, Peter had tried to by him things. Like a lot of things. Stiles had to explain that although it was a thing for Peter, it didn’t do it for him. It just kind of made him feel weird. He wasn’t against sugar babies. He had quite a few friends at the club that were sugar babies and he didn’t look at them as gold diggers or anything like that. He knew that the biggest reason they did it was because both parties got off on it. 

Eventually Peter had agreed to only buy Stiles kink-related things. That way Stiles could justify it as Peter buying things for himself, since he would ultimately be the one to enjoy it. That’s how Stiles’ one drawer became two drawers and eventually became his section of the closet. Stiles had more lingerie at Peter’s than he had clothes at his own place.

Despite this agreement, gas will sometimes just appear in his jeep, and his student payment card never seems to run out even though he hasn’t topped it up in over a year. 

Stiles watched as Peter settled himself in his favourite chair. It was a beautiful wingback that sat facing the wall of windows, which overlooked the city. Stiles was getting antsy. He hadn’t been told he could move yet, so he was still in the same position he’d been in when Peter had gotten home. All he wanted in that moment was to rush over and sit in Peter’s lap. 

“Okay, pet, get your kneeling pad and come kneel here in front of me.” Peter directed. 

Stiles felt the endearment wash over him, and he had to restrain himself from scrambling over there. Another thing that they’d been working on was restraint. Scenes were Stiles’ opportunity to be something he normally wasn’t. Sometimes he wanted to seem graceful and demur, rather than clumsy and bold. Don’t get him wrong, Stiles actually loved who he was, but it was nice to play pretend sometimes. 

He stood in one practiced movement and bent down to grab his pillow. On another day, if he’d been in a teasing mood, he might have made a show of it. Today he simply picked the pillow up and made his way over to Peter. He placed the pad down and knelt in front of Peter. 

Peter gave him an appreciative nod and sipped his drink.

Before he really thought about what he was doing, Stiles lay his head on Peter’s thigh. Instantly, Peter’s hand was in Stiles’ hair, tugging his head back until their eyes met. 

“Did I give you permission to do that?” Peter asked. 

Stiles shook his head in Peter’s grip. “No Sir, I’m sorry Sir.” 

Peter sighed and admitted, “We do usually do cockwarming when we’re in this position, but I don’t want you making assumptions about what we’re going to do. You know better than that.”

The admonishment was gentle, and it made shame curl low in his stomach. What was Peter doing with him? He was quite possibly the most put together person Stiles had ever met. And Stiles? Stiles was a fucking mess. On a good day he could barely keep his shit together enough to get through the day. Peter had barely been home for ten minutes and Stiles had already screwed up twice.

Peter regarded him impassively for a moment and said, “I’m going to finish my drink. You are going to sit there and do nothing else until I tell you, are we clear?” 

“Yes Sir.” Stiles said sullenly. 

He didn’t know what was wrong with him today. Normally, the waiting game really did it for him. It made him excited. When he was patient, it made him feel like he earned every touch that came after. Now though, he couldn’t help but feel like he was being punished. 

Peter took his time finishing his drink. Stiles doesn’t know how much later it is when Peter says, “Okay, I don’t know about you, but I’m in the mood to have my cock sucked.” 

Stiles nearly faceplanted himself in Peter’s crotch but managed to stop himself at the last second. 

If Peter noticed, he didn’t mention it. “Now, what is your safeword?”

“Stoplights, Sir. Green means good, yellow means pause and check in, and red means stop.” Stiles recited dutifully.

Peter nodded. “And how do you safeword when you can’t speak?” 

“I slap your thigh, Sir.” 

“Good.” Peter said and spread his legs and relaxed back into the chair. “Well, get to it.” 

Stiles reached over and undid Peter’s fly. He slipped his hand into Peter’s briefs and took out his cock. He wasn’t sure this if this was what Peter wanted from him. Sometimes Peter liked when he mouthed at him through his briefs, but that wasn’t really an option with the way he was sitting. Stiles wouldn’t even be able to get his balls out like this. 

Peter’s dick is a work of art, seriously. He’s only half hard, with the head just beginning to poke out from his foreskin. Stiles leaned in and gave it several long swipes of his tongue before focusing his attention at the tip. He mouthed at Peter’s foreskin and slipped his tongue in to tease at his head.

Peter wasn’t giving him any verbal encouragement, but his cock was fully hard now, so he must at least be enjoying it a little.

Stiles usually got lost in this, so he was annoyed to find that his brain just wouldn’t turn off. He was analyzing everything that he was doing, and he was sure he was overthinking it.

He took Peter further into his mouth and hummed a little. When he didn’t get the reaction he’d been looking for, he started stroking Peter while tonguing at his head. 

“Hand’s off.” Peter directed sternly. “You may put your hands on my thighs or the chair for balance of you need.

Stiles took his hand away as if he’d been burned. He redoubled his efforts and took Peter’s cock down further until the head pressed against the back of his throat. Peter didn’t have a monster dick, but he was by no means small. Stiles had really had to work at learning to deepthroat, and he still wasn’t quite there yet. He relaxed his throat and sank further onto Peter’s cock. 

He chickened out and pulled back before he even gagged. He could feel tears collecting in his eyes and they weren’t even the fun kind. He was just so frustrated. No matter what he was doing, it felt like it wasn’t what Peter wanted him to do. He hadn’t made Peter gasp or let out a breathless ‘good boy’ yet. 

A big part of him just wanted to tap out. He’d just sit back down and accept that he’d failed at this. What was the freaking point of this if neither of them was enjoying it? Some part of him still wanted to try though so he kept at it for several more minutes. 

It didn’t get better. And as he went on, his frustration just kept mounting. He didn’t know what he should do or try. He didn’t want to make a decision about this. He didn’t want to make any decision. He fucked up everything that he had a choice in. Stiles felt the tightening of his chest and knew that if he kept going like this, he would have a panic attack. 

This is it, he told himself. He was giving up. He was throwing in the towel and accepting that he was a terrible sub. 

Stiles moved to pull off of Peter’s cock and felt Peter’s hand grab onto the back of his head, holding Stiles down while he pushed his hips up. For a split-second panic shot through him. Why wasn’t Peter letting him go. He didn’t want this. He wanted to be done.

It only took a moment for Stiles’ brain to kick in. For once, he understood why Peter made him repeat his safewords during every scene. He’d thought it was a waste of time, but he wouldn’t question Peter again. 

Stiles raised his hand and slapped at Peter’s thigh.

Instantly, his head was raised off of Peter’s cock. Stiles coughed and spluttered before letting out a ragged, “Red, red, red.”

He rolled over onto his side and pulled his knees up to his chest. It took him a second to realize that he was crying now, great heaving sobs that shook his entire body. 

“I’m sorry.” Stiles choked out between sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Peter was off the chair and hovering over Stiles’ trembling body in a second. “Oh no, sweet boy. No, no, no. You have nothing to be sorry for. Not a single thing. I’m so proud of you for using your safeword when you needed to. So very proud.”

This just made Stiles sob all the harder. He’d been waiting so long for Peter to call him a pet name, and he only got it now because he tapped out. He was so pathetic. 

“Can I touch you?” Peter asked, voice concerned. 

Stiles nodded because, yes, it was all he’d wanted all night. He wanted Peter to hold him and not to let him go.

He felt Peter’s hand petting over his hair and pressed into the touch, desperately seeking the comfort that Peter was offering him. All at once, Stiles felt Peter wrap his arms around him and then he was being cradled against Peter’s broad chest. Stiles felt Peter stand and carry him over to the couch.

Once they were seated, Peter arranged him so that Stiles was properly in his lap. Stiles took the opportunity to fling his arms around Peter’s neck and sob into his chest. Peter held him tightly and slowly rubbed his back. All the while he gave Stiles a litany of praise. 

“You’re such a good boy, you’re my good boy. So proud of you, my beautiful, sweet boy.” 

Peter held him while the tears stopped and then continued to hold him while he drifted, unable to face the conversation he knew they were going to have. 

After a while, Stiles found himself nuzzling against Peter’s throat until he finally had the courage to peek his head up. He wasn’t surprised to see that Peter had been watching him. 

Peter dipped his head down and gave Stiles a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Are you ready to talk about it?”

Stiles nodded and then shook his head. He didn’t know how to put what just happened into words. 

Gently, Peter said, “Sweetheart, we won’t talk about it until you’re ready, but we do have to talk about it. Whatever it is, you’re not in trouble. I promise I won’t be mad or upset. I need to know what I did, so I can make sure never to do it again.”

Stiles whines. Now he’s made Peter think he did something wrong.

“It’s not – It isn’t” Stiles huffed in frustration. When he got like this, it was really difficult for him to properly voice his thoughts. 

He took several deep breaths and tried again, “It isn’t anything you did. It was definitely me, okay? You didn’t do anything. I don’t know how to explain it.” 

Peter rubbed his back and looked thoughtful for a moment. “Okay, why don’t you start at the beginning, tell me about your headspace.” 

Stiles knew that Peter was talking about the beginning of the scene, but Stiles said, “I had such a bad day. I screwed so many things up. I slept in, I almost missed an important quiz, and I spilled my stupid salad at lunch.” 

He could feel tears collecting at his eyes again and he wiped them away petulantly. “And I all I wanted to do was crawl in a hole and pretend that I wasn’t such a fuck up.”

“Stiles, you are not a fuck up.” Peter said sternly. More gently, he added, “if you were feeling so poorly, why didn’t you cancel?”

Stiles shook his head. “I already cancelled on you once this week because I needed more time on my essay. I didn’t want to blow you off for no reason.” 

“Your physical and mental health is not ‘no reason’ Stiles. They are very important things that you need to take care of. When I made that rule, I meant that you shouldn’t cancel plans with me to go to a party with friends or something like that.” Peter said while stroking Stiles’ face gently. 

Stiles nodded morosely. “Then I got here, and I went to get dressed and even that decision felt like too much. I’m such a loser that I couldn’t even pick what panties to put on.” 

“Stiles,” Peter chastised, “you aren’t a loser. It’s okay not to want to make decisions sometimes. That’s part of what a sub can get out of a relationship like ours.” 

Stiles couldn’t handle how sweet Peter was being. He looked away and said, “And then when you got home, I didn’t address you properly and then I just put my face in your lap. And I couldn’t get my brain to turn off. I couldn’t seem to sit still either.” And then, more quietly, he added, “I’m a bad sub.”

Peter gently gripped his chin and pulled his face up so that they were making eye contact. “Neither of those were a big mistake, sweetheart. You aren’t a bad sub because of two little mistakes that are easily corrected. And besides, there is no such thing as a bad sub. It sounds a lot like you just weren’t in the right headspace tonight. Now, tell me about what you were feeling next.”

Stiles shrugged. “I was just having a really hard time deciding what to do. I really wanted to please you, but it felt like nothing I was doing was working. It felt like maybe you wanted something specific and I just couldn’t figure out what that was. And I was just getting more and more frustrated with myself. It was killing me that you weren’t enjoying it.” 

“Not enjoying it?” Peter said surprised. “What on earth made you think I wasn’t enjoying myself.” 

“You weren’t—” Stiles cut himself off. It wasn’t Peter’s fault he was so screwed up in the head tonight. The last thing Stiles wanted was to make him feel guilty.

Peter made an inquiring noise. “Stiles, what were you going to say. Whatever it is, I’d like to hear it. I won’t be mad.” 

Stiles squirmed in Peter’s hold. “It’s just that you weren’t really telling me that I was doing a good job. And you were pretty quiet. Normally you’re ah… a bit more vocal when you’re enjoying it.” 

“Oh sweetheart, I’m sorry. I was trying hard not to enjoy it too much because I had a long night planned.” Peter said, sounding genuinely sorry. 

“And I ruined it.” Stiles finished for him. 

Peter shook his head and stroked his thumb against Stiles’ collar. “Absolutely not. You weren’t in a good headspace for it. That isn’t your fault. I don’t ever want us to play when either one of us isn’t feeling good about it. Do you understand?” 

Stiles nodded and tucked his head against Peter’s neck. He let Peter hold him for a while, luxuriating in the comfort of the embrace.

After several long moments, Peter took a deep breath and sat Stiles back up in his lap so that they were facing each other. 

“I owe you an apology.” Peter said. 

Stiles whined and said, “I told you that it wasn’t—” 

Peter held a hand up to cut him off. “I need to say this, and I need you to listen to me without interrupting, okay?” 

Stiles nodded his agreement. He didn’t want Peter blaming himself, but he wasn’t about to interrupt him again. 

“Okay,” Peter started, “I owe you an apology. For two things. First, I’m sorry for not checking in with you. I saw that something was off. I could tell that you were a little out of sorts, but I made the decision not to check in. I don’t know, I guess I thought it was something a scene would help you work through. I made the wrong decision, and I’m sorry. 

“Second, I should have been more attentive to your needs. In hindsight I can see that you were giving me signals that you needed comfort, praise even. If I had been paying better attention, I would have seen that you needed direction as well. I was too wrapped up in my own pleasure. I’m sorry sweetheart.”

Peter always seemed to be able to voice his thoughts so easily. He never stumbled or rambled. He just thought about what he wanted to say and then said it. Stiles wished he could get his thoughts across so well. 

Stiles took a deep breath and said, “It’s not that I don’t like when we play like that. Most of the time, it’s exciting and I feel good about myself because I’m being patient. I don’t want us to stop playing like that. It’s just that this time I felt to needy.”

It sounded stupid to Stiles’ ears, but Peter just nodded like this made Perfect sense. 

“Stiles,” Peter began, “I need you to understand that you are allowed to ask for things that you need. This relationship goes two ways. It isn’t just about what I want or need. Yes, I’m still going to be the one who decides the specifics of what we do and when we do it. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t communicate how you’re feeling to me. 

“It is perfectly okay to text me and say, ‘I need sweet and soft Sir tonight’ or ‘I want to be pampered tonight’, or even ‘I had a bad day and I’m in a weird head space. I don’t know what I need.’ Then we can sit down and talk about it before the scene. Does that make sense?” 

It all sounded so reasonable when Peter laid it out like that. Stiles felt silly for not just saying what he needed. 

Peter must have noticed because he added, “This is why we talk about things though, right? There’s no way we would be able to cover absolutely every scenario before we ever played together. Our relationship is evolving, and that’s a good thing.” 

“Thanks, I think I needed to hear that. Some days I just get it into my head that I can’t do anything right and then it just sort of spirals from there.” Stiles explained. 

Peter gave him a squeeze and said, “For that matter, you can always text me and say you’re not in the mood tonight. And we can just order dinner and watch Netflix or something.” 

Stiles looked at Peter in awe. He hadn’t thought that was something Peter would be interested in. Outside of their play, they didn’t really do much together.

Peter must see the shock on his face because he added, “I can tell you that there will definitely be times where I’ll be too exhausted for anything other than a movie and a cuddle.” 

“I didn’t realize that would be something you’d be interested in.” Stiles said, feigning casual.

Peter looked at him incredulously. “I gave you a key, Stiles. That’s an open invitation to be here whenever you want, whether I’m here or not.” 

Stiles felt his cheeks flush. “You have to spell this stuff out for me, Dude. I thought you just wanted me to be ready to go when you got home.” 

Looking flustered, Peter said, “I’m not complaining, but that definitely isn’t why I gave you the key. I want you over here whenever you want to be.”

Stiles is saved from having to respond by his stomach growling loudly. 

“Stiles,” Peter said, “Please tell me that after you dropped your salad, you bought a new one. And please also tell me that you ate dinner.” 

Stiles winced. “The salad was like ten bucks. No way was I paying for another one. And I didn’t really have time for dinner.” Or breakfast for that matter. He wisely kept that to himself. 

“Okay, so I’m going to put more money on your university card, and you are not going to let the outrages prices they charge on campus be an excuse not to eat. Now, clearly, we need to get food into you before you collapse on me. Why don’t we order dinner and then we can watch a movie, and then go to bed? Sound good?” Peter asked.

“Yes,” Stiles admitted, “sounds perfect, Sir. As long as you choose what we’re eating and what we’re watching. No more decisions for me tonight.”

Peter quirked an eyebrow. “Is that so?” 

“Yep,” Stiles replied playfully, “I have to tell you what I need now. Dom’s orders.” 

Peter grinned at him, one of those blinding smiles that made Stiles’ heart hurt from how much it makes him feel.

This time, he didn’t stop himself from being impulsive. He pulled Peter over to him for an incredibly satisfying kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Potential triggers:  
> -Safeword use  
> -Feelings of insecurity and worthlessness  
> -There is a very brief moment where Stiles forgets how to safeword and panics (Only one sentence) 
> 
> I do want to be clear that absolutely everything that they do in this fic was pre-negotiated and consensual. This fic is about hitting bumps in the road in an established kink partnership, which is just part of the journey. They talk it out afterword and I promise they have learned from this experience and will communicate better in the future :)


End file.
